Roue de la Fortune
by Sam Lori
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a young man who wrote stories.  But these stories came to life in the most unexpected ways.  It would then lead one to wonder if the young man was actually the writer, or another pawn in his own script! Fakir/Ahiru
1. Un Coeur Sombre

*** I do not own Princess Tutu nor the characters Fakir, Ahiru/Duck, or Mytho. ***

**Chapter One: Un Coeur Sombre  
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><p><em>Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom there was to be held a wedding. The wedding was to be between the Prince and his chosen Princess. The Prince eagerly anticipated the arrival of his beautiful princess, but she never came. As the days passed, and no signs of the princess revealed themselves, the prince grew worried that something had happened to his beloved. To put his mind at rest the prince assembled a team of his most trusted knights to search the lands for the princess. As the knights took off into the deep night, the prince locked himself away in his palace, and…<em>

Fakirs quill tip ceased to organically flow from his hand as he read what he had placed on paper. _How could I write such a thing, to make Mytho suffer on his own wedding day…has my writing truly become as corrupted as Drosselmeyers? _Fakir sighed out loud as he stood up from his shabby little workplace. The chair squeaked softly against the harsh grain of the wood floor as Fakir moved it back into place.

"This story…I won't allow this to pass."

He grabbed the manuscript for his story _Un Coeur Sombre _and walked out of the dim-lit room. He passed through a small dining room that was decorated in such a plain and simple manner, a few chairs and a table that looked as if it had been made by a child, one could hardly call it a table in the normal sense but to Fakir this was all that was necessary for daily living. He continued to walk towards the front door, and opened the decaying wood, allowing the brightness and warmth of the sun to penetrate his damp home.

Fakir closed his eyes and let the warmth of the sun caress his body, it was a feeling he had missed from the days when Drosslemeyers story was coming true. But it wasn't the story nor the events that his body craved for, it was the warmth and company from a certain duck he deeply desired and sorely missed. _Why…why can't I bring her back!_

Fakir's hand clenched up crinkling the manuscript. His eyes looked down towards the ground, and he soon felt himself falling into despair. His mind towards the thought of the mighty battle that took place between the Raven and Mytho, but more importantly, what he had done to duck. As he regained the willpower to continue his original task, the memories of ducks battered body lying on the ground after the Raven was defeated flooded his mind and heart. Tears began to run down his cheek as he imagined her beautiful smile decorating her bloodied face. He walked towards a large fire pit that had been recently put out, and threw his manuscript into the ashes.

"I won't allow anyone to suffer anymore, especially for the sake of my own amusement." As he uttered the last word he threw a match into the fire pit and slowly watched the primitive flame consume the paper. The paper blackened, curled, and cracked with the increasing heat creating a rhythm of destruction that soothed Fakirs heart.

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><p>Fakir stood by the fire pit well into the afternoon, watching the flame grow into a monstrous being, allowing his feeling of comfort fade into fear, a fear that he Fakir, is slowly falling into the same fate as his ancestor Drosselmeyer. The fear felt like it was uprooting itself deep into his heart, and he was not sure if he would be able to stop himself in the near future from finishing the stories he had been writing. This was the twelfth one this month that he had to sacrifice to the flames, and each one had begun as a beautifully spun tale, but quickly mutated into a tale of tragedy and betrayal. <em>Am I really in control of my own stories anymore, or am I just a puppet to the will of something even greater?<em>This thought brought an air of concern to Fakir, and he knew that only one person could give him a proper response.

He walked towards the lake near his home, pushing aside vines and creeping reeds that seem to be longing for companionship, grabbing at his shirt and tearing his sleeve slightly open.

"Damn it…this was my only good shirt!"

Anger and frustration had been boiling inside Fakir for awhile now, but this was a breaking point, and Fakir lost control of his senses. He took out a small dagger and started cutting away at each vine and reed with a murderous passion. His eyes began to widen as his motions became increasingly wild, a blood lust consuming his every motion. Each strike the reeds and vines suffered, a disembodied voice would coo as if it was in pain and dying, but unfortunately for the innocent reeds and vines, Fakir could no longer control his actions. As quickly as he began to devour the reed and vines, there was nothing left but a small rocky path towards the lake. _What…what have I done? _Fakir looked down at the torn reeds and broken vines, their blood soaked into the ground and his blade. Panicked, he took off down the path just praying he could see her face, to have her hold him in her arms and forgive him for what he had done.

He reached the lakes shore and saw in the middle of the large blue mass, a small and fragile body of a yellow duck. He stood there, frozen and out of breath as the duck noticed the rustling noise from his direction. It slowly began to paddle towards him, elegantly but plain. His eyes grew sad as the duck came closer and closer. _If only she was still my Ahiru, and not a duck…_

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><p><strong>A.N:<strong>_ I hope you all enjoyed this! This is my first time writing a fanfiction for this site, so I am still adjusting to the formats and everything. This is the first chapter in the complete story, so I should be updating very often ^^ BTW Un Coeur Sombre means A dark Heart in french, and the title means Wheel of Fortune =3  
><strong>-Sam R. Lori<strong>  
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	2. La Réflexion Miroirs

*** Once again, I do not own Princess Tutu, nor the characters of Fakir or Ahiru/Duck***

***You might be wondering why I labeled this as mature, it is mainly because later on in the story there will be vulgar language and some smut happening ^_~ ***

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: La Réflexion Miroirs<strong>

_A wise warrior was once asked "If you have two mirrors facing each other, what do you see?". The wise warrior pondered on this question for many days, and to no avail was able to answer the question. He traveled back to his beloved queen, and asked her with all his pride, what do you see in a mirrors reflection?_

Fakir crouched down to the level of the lakes shore, meeting eye to eye with the ducks gaze. He could almost see warmth and happiness emitting from her blue eyes, but at the same time his own reflection within the ducks eyes was empty, a shadow of his former self. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some crumbled bread, and lightly tossed them into the water. He watched the duck slowly paddle towards the floating crumbs, a smile slowly emerging on his face.

"I am so glad you are here Duck, it has been so lonely here the past few days. I can't seem to keep focus while writing my tales any more..."

Fakir looked down at the bread crumbs watching parts of them slowly sink deeper into the lake. Suddenly Duck dunked her entire body into the water gobbling up the sinking bread, startling Fakir and breaking his chain of depression. She resurfaced her head, and very clumsily knocked off the beads of water from her golden coat.

Chuckling but still in an irritated tone Fakir asked "Did you do that on purpose, to take my mind off of something?"

He waited for some response from her, but nothing. She looked at him, and then continued to peck away at the remaining crumbs at the surface. His eyes saddened and he slowly stood up from his crouched position. _After all this time, she is still nothing but a god damn duck..._ Cracking his back on his way up, he took a few moments to stare at the clear, brilliant blue sky. _How strange...Ever since I moved out here, there has never been a cloud in the sky. How can this be? _Fakir shrugged the notion out of his mind as he looked once more at his beloved Duck. She was now perched next to his boots, pecking at his pants, begging for him to stay some more.

"Duck, you know I can't stay." Fakir clenched his hands tightly, _If I could Ahiru, I would.  
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Her eyes stared at him, once again with warmth that touched his heart, but he couldn't stare back into those gems. Every time he looked at Duck, his heart would swoon and beg for him to just write her back into his life, so that he could feel her touch grasping at his shoulders, to hear her quirky voice utter his name in confusion, all reasons that were selfish and for no one but himself. This was the reason he would not bring her back, because if he allowed himself one ounce of selfish pleasure, then even he did not know how long it would be till his stories were written entirely for his own entertainment. That was a fate he would not allow befall these lands once again.

"Stop looking at me like that! You are nothing but a duck, a plain and simple duck that could never know anything about love..."

Tears flowed down his cheeks, his hands and body shaking convulsively. A sharp pain stabbed him in his chest and he grabbed ferociously at the pain. _What is, what is this pain? _ The pain intensified to a point that Fakir could no longer hide his screams of agony. Duck started flapping her little wings and squawking at the top of her lungs. She didn't understand what was happening to Fakir, and why he had said such hurtful words to her.

Fakir bellowed a sound that chilled Duck to her core. His eyes filled with visible blood vessels, which gave him the appearance of a mad man. The echoing yell travelled far through the woods, disturbing every bird that was resting high on the tree tops. Flocks flew past the lake while Fakir slumped down to the ground, to Duck he looked just like a puppet that had just been cut free from a stages strings.

Fakir grasped for breath, reaching slowly towards Duck who was now frustrated and desperately trying to comfort the collapsed Fakir. His hand outreached towards her, begging for Ahiru to grab his hand, but all she could do was offer her small fragile wing. It was at this moment that there gazes met, and both were staring into each other eyes, seeing nothing but their own reflections. _I wish you were here with me Ahiru, I wish you were here. _As Fakir fell into unconsciousness he swore he heard her say something, but he couldn't be sure as the darkness swiftly caressed him to sleep.

_Fakir! Oh, Fakir plea__se wake up. I don't want to lose you forever. I want to be Ahiru again…  
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><p><strong>A.N<strong>: _Hi Guys! Sorry this chapter was a tad short, but while I was going over it, I really could not bind myself into continuing after that scene. I felt like it would have ruined the mood I had worked up to =] Feel free to review and leave comments, as I am adjusting even more to , I am feeling more and more comfortable working out kinks in the layout and everything3_

-Sam R. Lori


	3. Le Rêveur Peu

***I do not own Princess Tutu, nor the characters Fakir or Ahiru***

***Woot, chapter three =] and still more to go in our tale of love and misfortune!***

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Le Rêveur Peu<strong>

_"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." ~T. E. Lawrence_

The wind was howling as Fakir slowly opened his eyes, a soft faint glow from a candle was piercingly bright to his sight. He grunted as he rose softly from the bed. _What happened?_ Fakir looked around to observe his surroundings, and to his surprise he was back in his cabin by the lake!_ What the hell, how did I get here?_ His thoughts became more and more anxious as he kept pondering on the fact that less than a few hours ago he had passed out by the lakes shore, his hands furiously ravishing his black locks of hair. He tried desperately to remember what happened before he passed out, but all he could remember was lying on the ground and reaching out towards a duck. _Ahiru!_

"That's right…I was feeding Ahiru when I lost consciousness!"

Fakir violently threw his bed covers off of him and stammered to the floor. His legs could barely support his weight and he collapsed hard to the floor, sending a loud pang throughout the home. _Why, why can't I walk?_ Fakir looked closely at his feet and legs, but nothing, not even a hint of bruising or any wounds of that matter. _Why do my legs feel like I've been sleeping for days?_ Fakir attempted to stand up once more, this time taking extra precaution and grabbing the edge of bed side table. His upper arm strength seemed to be in order and easily enough lifted himself from off the floor. Brushing the dust and other particles off his pants, Fakir walked slowly towards the dining hall. His balance was still off but not nearly as bad as it was before. Gaining his composure and stride back he became once again powerful and commanding as he took off through the dining hall.

In the corner of his eye he noticed that nothing had changed, his simple layout had remained untouched, not even a speck of dust was misplaced._ Well, at least my home is apparently too shitty for someone to rob._ As he approached the front door, Fakir stopped frozen in his own tracks. He had been caught off guard by the apparent fact that his writing desk had manuscript on it. _What the hell?_ Fakir approached his work station with care, but his emotions were still unstable, thoughts of whom, why, and when where begging to be answered. While Picking up and looking at the manuscript, he couldn't help but feel all of his fear melt away to annoyance and confusion.

Drawn all over his paper were poorly drawn ducks, stick figures and something that could almost resemble a self-portrait of him._ Is this some kind of fucking joke?_ Taking one more look at the doodle of himself, Fakir made a crooked grin and cringed at the dis-proportioned hair to face ratio.

"My hair is nowhere near that messy or long…"_and I am not that hideous looking!_

Fakir placed the paper back down on the desk, looking around to see if he could find the one responsible for this 'art'. Noticing wet footprints on his wood floor Fakir drew his blade out. _They could have not gotten that far, but I am also sure they aren't stupid enough to stay here._ Taking a final look at the paper, Fakir questioned if maybe they were idiotic enough to have stayed in his home.

"Judging by that drawing, I'm sure they are of no threat to me..." Fakir put the dagger away, and began to hunt down the invader.

His search didn't last that long as a trail of opened food containers, a glass of water, and more childish drawings lead him through the dining room, to the kitchen and then to his sleeping quarters. He didn't waste one minute picking up the drawings and other streams of paper they had left around his home._ I don't understand, I just woke up and I hadn't noticed anything unusual about my room._ As Fakir attempted to pick up the last drawing he was startled when he noticed there was a hand attached to it. His eyes widened as his gaze traveled from their hand to their face. Face to face with the invader, Fakir crept slowly back towards his bedside table to grab the candle, he wanted to make sure his eyes mixed with the darkness were not messing with him imagination. Bringing the candle closer and closer towards the sleeping culprit, he confirmed what he had originally seen.

"Ahiru…"

Sleeping in front of Fakir was his beloved Ahiru, free from her duck form. The candlelight playfully bounced off her naked and still moist skin._ Naked? Why is she always naked?_ Fakir blushed hard as he came to realize that she had immodestly collapsed without any clothing. Not knowing what to do in a situation of this manner, he wanted to scream hey idiot, put some damn clothing on, but something stopped him from doing so._ It's been so long…since I've been able to look at her face._ Fakir just wanted to stare at her body, to take in every sight, from her ginger matted hair, to her pale milk skin. His gaze crossed every curve of her form, focusing on her small chest slowly rising and lowering from her pant like breathing. To anyone else, she was below average, not a hint of grace or beauty in her looks, but in Fakirs eyes she was everything he could ever want and desire. He wanted to feel her, to intake her warmth and scents. Her frail small body quivered in the dark, and Fakirs curiosity perked up. _How could she have possibly carried me back to my cabin? She isn't that strong._ He knelt beside her and gently placed her hand in his. _She's freezing!_ Fakir almost pulled away but he couldn't find it within himself to let her go._ Not again, I won't let her go this time._

He stood up, and stepped towards his bed to grab his sheets. Picking them up, he walked back towards Ahiru's sleeping body and covered her softly. He gazed at her like a hawk with his predatory eyes and sighed with relief. Closing the room door behind him his smile soon disappeared with concern as the thoughts of how she came back to him swept him from his illusion of desire._ I never wrote her back in, and I know that for a fact. I have to find out what's going on around here._ As he took a step forward he slipped on one of the many more sheets of paper strewed across the hallway. Fakir hit his head against the wall, groaning and wincing in pain. Grabbing his head for a few seconds he slammed his hand towards the paper, smashing it as it were a bug and bringing it up to his face. The paper had a duck and another grotesque version of himself on it, but this time they were holding hands. He crumpled the piece of parchment and threw it across the hallway. _Idiot_. He chuckled softly as he crawled back up and continued walking towards the living room.

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><p>A.N:<em> Hey guys, So I hope this kind of makes up for my last chapter kind of being short and fast. Enjoy!<br>_

_~Sam R. Lori  
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